“We have to find her.”
Wyatt rose from the seat, his expression grim. “I’m not sure how much good I’ll be to you.” He took a step, wobbled and crashed onto the bed.
“Wyatt!” I jumped forward, hauling him onto the mattress so he didn’t slide to the floor.
His face was pale, his skin clammy. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out.
“Too much!” I felt his pulse, it was weak and unsteady. “You gave me too much of your power!”
He shook his head. “Time was running out.”
Oh my god! He’d sped up the healing process at his own detriment. That was why I felt all hopped up like I’d injected a gallon of caffeine. I wanted to smack him and kiss him all at the same time. “You ass!”
And then I did kiss him. I kissed him hard, my lips on his, pressing into his body with mine, hands on his face, on his chest, under his shirt as I slid my leg over to straddle him.
He didn’t respond at first. His body was too drained, too weak, but I knew he would. He needed pleasure. He needed me. He gave me all that he had to heal me, now I was going to give some back.
I rubbed myself against him, my pussy abrading against the covered zipper of his jeans. He moaned, breathlessly, barely audible, his eyes still closed. Not good enough.
I shimmed down his legs and popped his jeans open, sliding them down to mid-thigh before slipping my fingers into his boxers and pulling out my prize. He may have been unconscious mentally, but his body wasn’t playing dumb. His cock was rock hard, weeping pre-come already, eager for me to have a lick.
He’d only ever once done this before, drained himself to the point of no return, on Ally. I hadn’t helped him then. I’d walked away, in fact. I never learned how he’d recovered from it. Didn’t really want to know.
With his cock in my hand, I glanced up at him—his brows were furrowed, his mouth pulled into a grimace. His body craved pleasure, needed it to restore his power. He’d saved my life. It was the least I could do. I’d just have to try not to enjoy myself…too much.
Pushing any more thoughts of the other woman aside, I gently stroked his length, reacquainting myself with his shaft, running my thumb over the crown of his cock, along the slit and then back down again. He moaned, this time louder, his eyelids fluttering. I lowered my mouth to his sac, licking the salty skin of his balls, coating them in saliva before gently sucking one then the other deeply into my mouth.
I’d always loved giving Wyatt head. It made me wet instantly when the idea would pop into my daydreams. Usually while we were in class or some equally as inappropriate time. I made it a game to see how far I could go in public places before anyone noticed. It was amazing what people didn’t want to see. We’d call it the top up. I’d give him a sneak attack and appease my need for being naughty and he’d get a little jolt of magic refueling. Everyone was happy. The good old days.
He moaned louder as I flattened my tongue against the base of his cock, licking my way up, slow and leisurely, curling around his head before wrapping my lips on him, taking him almost to the hilt. My body knew Wyatt’s, accommodated him completely. Despite his size, I was able to take him all, deep throating him so he was nestled completely. He pushed against me, his hips rising off the bed as I slowly sucked then slid back, my fingers replacing my lips to pump as I swirled and sucked, flicked and licked.
I repeated my trek, down, his hips bucking against my slick hands, my teasing lips. Just as I released his flesh and glanced up, he opened his eyes, violet burning, lust filled.
“Kali,” he groaned as he reached down to grip the sides of my head, pulling my hair and urging me forward.
I smiled as I scurried up his body, easing the pull on my hair as I mounted him, his cock eagerly nudging my pussy. Wyatt pulled me closer, bringing me down until my lips were on his, tongues entwined. He arched his hips, his cock easily slipping inside of me, nestled snug, still for a moment as he breathed a sigh. He released his hold on my hair and positioned his hands on my hips, urging me to ride him. My slow pumping made him growl as he pushed me up, then pulled me down again.
I wanted to tease him, make him wait for it, but who was I kidding? I really didn’t have that much self-control.
He let me ride him hard and fast until I was dripping with sweat and panting, my clit so hard, tingling with my building climax. I couldn’t move fast enough, hard enough, couldn’t pull him in deep enough. With a frustrated growl I slapped my hands on his chest and he quickly snatched my wrists, rolling me under him in one motion, yanking my hands up until my body was stretched taut under his. He plowed into me, my legs wrapped tightly around his waist as I welcomed him deeper, taking every pounding thrust with a grunt and a moan.
I actually screamed my orgasm, such intensity something I’d only ever felt with Wyatt. He climaxed moments after I did then crashed down onto me. Our bodies were slick with sweat, languid and unmoving, his weight too much for me to bear but welcome all the same.
“I missed you, Wyatt. I missed this.” It was a moment of weakness, I’ll admit. Those words whispered so lovingly, my heart punctuating them. “Admit it, it was only ever this good with me.” I smiled, teasing him in the afterglow.
He lifted his head, one eyebrow cocked, his face deadpan as he pushed himself away.
In that split second, that little look, I felt the old familiar tug of rejection. My smile faded and I pushed myself up, snagging the comforter from the side of the mattress and wrapped it around myself.
“We should get going.” He pulled his boxers and jeans up as he stood from the bed, righting his clothes before turning to look at me.
“You could at least say thank you,” I mumbled, my eyes stinging with the burn of traitorous tears. Fuck him.
He snorted. “Thanks.”
“What the fuck, Wyatt?” I pulled the comforter tighter to my body as I stood from the bed. “Why are you being such a prick?”
“I didn’t ask you to do that,” he spat.
I blinked. Hard. Craned my head to the side. “Um…what?”
“I was fine. I just needed to rest for a minute.”
Shock rolled through me. “Are you fucking serious?” I moved around the side of the bed and shoved him back, my magic sparking along my fingers, jolting him like a zap of static. “You couldn’t even walk!”
He glared at me, lifting a hand to rub his shoulder. “Get your powers under control, Kali! You’re reckless!”
“I’m reckless? Holy fuck, Wyatt, I should have just left your weak ass here instead of recharging you.”
“Why didn’t you?” He turned from me, walking toward the door. “Not like you haven’t done that before.”
It was a slap, a kick to the gut, a low blow. “You’re such a prick. You’ve always been a prick. Emotionally mute. Unfeeling. Insensitive. What’s the problem? You worried that you’re gonna owe me one? You pissed that I had to save your ass this time?” My voice was shaking, anger making me sound weak, so I hit him with everything I had. “What good are you to me, Wyatt? What good have you ever been? You’re such a selfish asshole. Anything touches your pride and you lash out.”
“I’m selfish?” He turned, his finger raised, anger flashing in his eyes. “You have no idea what I’ve done for you. No. Fucking. Idea.”
“What have you done for me?” I crossed my arms. “Spill it. I want to know.”
He glared at me, jaw set, no intention of speaking.
I snorted, “Fuck you, Wyatt. Fuck you and your secrets. I’m not rising to the bait. I’m not playing this game anymore. You did something for me? Great. Thanks for whatever it was. I don’t care.”
I turned and stomped into the bathroom, slammed the door closed and twisted the lock. With our great lust came intensity in other areas too. This was like old times. This. This is what I needed to remember. Wyatt didn’t like being vulnerable. He
didn’t like me taking control. A fight like this seven years ago would have had me begging for him to forgive me. To tell me his secrets. Which he wouldn’t—he never did—and eventually I’d just tuck my hurt away and let it go.
Not anymore. I was done with his games. For good.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Billy.” I clenched the clumsy landline receiver to my ear, hating the fact that my cell hadn’t survived the dunk in the pool. “Things have gotten a little fucked up. I need your help.”
“Kali? Where are you calling from?”
“We’re at a hotel on the west side.”
“A hotel?” There was a pause, Billy cleared his throat. “You still got that witch with you?”
“Wyatt?” I frowned. “Yeah, where the fuck is he gonna go?” I’d forgotten that Billy didn’t know a damn thing about why Wyatt was there in the first place. I shook my head, not that it mattered. “I need to meet up with you and the team. I need your help.”
“We’re pretty busy here, prepping.” His tone was cool, frosty even. Not the usual Billy joviality.
I frowned. “Prepping for what?”
“The Dark War, Kali. This shit is going to be bad. Really bad. I’m not sure what kind of help we can give, time is running out.”
“What if I told you that my bounty was connected to the war? What if I told you it was her idea?”
“I’m listening.”
* * * * *
Twenty minutes later, Wyatt and I were waltzing into Witch Hunter’s Union Headquarters. We hadn’t spoken much in the hour since our fight. While I’d showered and cleaned up, he’d gone out and gotten food. We’d eaten in silence on opposite sides of the room. The only actual speaking happening when I phoned Billy. Normally we’d have made up with angry sex. That was our usual MO. But not this time.
Or ever again as far as I was concerned.
Billy was waiting in the foyer, a black eye and busted up lip marring his face.
“What happened?” I made a move to hug him and he shied away. “Okaaaay.”
“What’s he doing here?” Billy nodded in Wyatt’s direction, his lips turning into a sneer.
“I told you he was still with me.” I crossed my arms. “What’s going on, Billy? Why are you acting this way?”
“Acting what way?” He shifted his glare from Wyatt to me. “This is a Witch Hunter’s Union and he’s a witch.”
“And so am I.” I took a step back, the waves of hostility making me wish I’d belted a few more knives.
That seemed to snap him back to reality. His eyes softened and he let out a heavy sigh. “You’re right. Fuck, I’m sorry, Kali.” He ran his hand over his face, wincing as his fingers brushed his wounded lip. “We had a bad hunt today.”
A bad hunt, meaning someone got hurt. Or worse, dead.
“We were tracking a witch who’d been bragging about a war. Making big noise about killing humans, getting the world back, whatever. We got her cornered in a warehouse, thought we’d be able to subdue her quickly, get her back here for interrogation. Didn’t realize it was a trap. Had a gang waiting there for us. A rag tag group, vamps, witches, weres even. We barely made it out.” He clenched his fist, raised it to his chest. “Sam took a direct hit.”
I gasped, my heart constricting. “Is she…did she…” I couldn’t say it, not that word. Not one of my friends.
“She’s hanging on. Barely. The witch hit her with a nasty spell. Can’t figure out what it was, but it seems to be rolling through her body like a current. We had to restrain her, put a leather thong in her mouth to keep her from biting her tongue. The spell, it’s killing her.”
“Wyatt can help,” I blurted, then winced.
“What?” both men said at the same time, Wyatt looking like he was going to kill me, Billy looking like he was going to hug me.
“You’ve got to be out of your ever-loving mind…” Wyatt was speaking through partially clenched teeth, his words rough.
I pulled Wyatt away, my hand clenching his arm, nails digging in. “You need to do this.”
He tugged his arm free, shaking his head as he did. “I don’t need to do anything. Certainly not for these assholes.”
“We need their help, Wyatt, even you admit that. Sam is the only other witch powerful enough to help us. We need her on the team. You have to do this. I’m serious. Without her we might as well give up.”
He stared down at me, his eyes flashing a deeper purple, his jaw set, his breaths coming out in angry puffs.
I put my hand on his arm again, gently this time. “Please, Wyatt. Besides all of that, she’s my friend. She might have some issues with our kind, but she doesn’t deserve to die like this.” I was still angry with him from earlier but damn, I would have gotten on my knees and begged if I had to.
He continued to glare. There was nothing more I could say so I locked eyes with him, pleading for his help.
“I’ll give her five minutes of a dose. That’s it.”
Five minutes could be all she needed. Or it could barely make a dent. It depended on the spell she’d been hit with. I knew by his expression that that was all I was going to get.
I nodded. “Fine.” I turned to Billy. “Take us to her.”
She was on a rack. Arms and legs stretched out, bound by leather straps.
“Now that’s ironic,” Wyatt said with a smirk.
I elbowed him in the side just as Billy scowled in his direction.
“What? Like you weren’t thinking it.”
He wasn’t wrong. It was ironic that Sam was strapped up on the very device she’d used to torture and interrogate her own kind. Justice served, in some fucked up afterlife dream of any witch she killed. Karma perhaps. But it was not funny. She was writhing against the table, her wrists and ankles bleeding from tearing against the leather restrains. Her face contorting with pain as small moans slipped from her parched and bleeding lips, teeth bared, clenching tight to the thong in her mouth.
“How long has she been like this?” Wyatt asked, his tone detached. Which was fine. He didn’t need to care, he just need to zap her with some healing power.
“Four hours,” Billy said with a nod to Clive.
He was sitting next to the table, his eyes bloodshot, his face banged up like Billy’s. A deep gash across his forehead. He was covered in blood. It’d been one hell of a fight—that was for sure. I’d seen Clive take down a witch twice his size. He was quick and strong for a human. Not this time though.
“We might have a solution,” Billy said to him.
Clive frowned, his eyes barely registering what Billy was saying as he glanced from him to us. “She’s dying.”
I moved past Billy to the other side and touched Clive’s shoulder. “We’re gonna do what we can.”
Wyatt moved to the side opposite me, his hand out, ready to touch Sam’s forehead.
“Wait!” I shook my head. “You can’t dose her until we know what this is. Give me a minute. Maybe I can zone in on the source, tone it down before you zap her.”
I’d never been great at counter spells. Didn’t know a lot about them. I remembered one of my teachers at the academy saying that the trick with them was first locating the source. For the average witch, that meant finding the one who’d cast, learning the spell and then reversing it. It involved a lot of gut instinct and feeling rather than memorization of words.
Natural casting, that was what it was called. Reeling back a spell by feeling it out. I didn’t need to find the witch who’d cast it, I just needed to touch the spell signature—taste the source within her and then, in theory, use my powers to pull it back or at least tone it down.
In theory. I’d never actually done a reversal before.
I took a deep breath. Closed my eyes. Cast a tracking spell over Sam and hoped for the best.
It bounced back to me with a wal
lop. Oh shit. I snapped my gaze up to Wyatt’s. The expression on his face was one I’d seen many times before. Fuck it. That was what he was thinking. It wouldn’t take much for him to walk. Five minutes of healing would do nothing if I didn’t get this spell under control.
I closed my eyes again. Felt the edges of the spell as it rolled through my awareness. It was filled with electrical impulses, targeting Sam’s central nervous system, zapping her with pulses that felt like actual volts of power. I was surprised her heart hadn’t given up, her muscles spasming through each jolt. I followed the threads of the spell to the point of contact, where it had entered Sam’s body, right in the middle of her stomach.
Okay. I breathed in. I breathed out. There was no visual guidance here, unlike a signature that I could track—this spell was not emanating light or giving me something to look at. This was all about intuition. The feel of it.
I didn’t have a fucking clue what I was doing.
Sam shuddered as another wave rolled through her, rocking the table she was on so that it pressed against my thighs. I sucked in another deep breath.
The spell. Feel it, mark its boundaries. Touch its threads as they were woven together. Find a loose string. Start pulling it apart.
Like unraveling a knot, the strings began to separate, lose their grip, the spell’s ferocity ebbing in slower, shallower waves.
It felt like it took five minutes, but when I opened my eyes, Wyatt was asleep in a chair, Billy was drinking a coffee and Clive was gone.
“How long?” My throat was parched. My body tense. The muscles in my shoulders felt like I’d been carrying ten tons of bricks or something. I clenched and unclenched my fists. My arms were sore too. Ouch.
“Two hours.” Billy nodded at Sam. “She stopped convulsing about an hour ago. I sent Clive to get his wounds checked when it seemed like she was out of the woods.” As he stood he kicked the leg of Wyatt’s chair, waking him up with a grunt.
I cocked an eyebrow and Billy shrugged as if to say, “Can’t blame me.”
“You done?” Wyatt’s tone was low, almost a growl.
The Dark War: The Dark War, Book 1 Page 14